The Caretaker of Tenants From Another World - Chapter 120 (Patreon)

Alt link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/12092znZY_pJa1iNGYAZMsgsBW-6t-e7DKPog7Nems4E/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 120

Reginald threw his hands in the air— and almost the controller— when I passed him and took first place in another game of Mario Kart.

"If you don't master those shortcuts, you're never going to beat me." I grinned.

"Geez. I destroyed my friends in college. Now I'm the one getting creamed. How the hell did you get so good?" Reginald sat down the controller, tired of being beaten game after game.

"A video game-addicted tenant… she was a pretty brutal teacher."

The answer was bittersweet. I had no way of knowing how they were doing while in here, but I had nothing other than hope.

"She sounds like a blast." Reginald chuckled, then pulled out a carton of cigarettes.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't smoke?" I sighed.

"Sorry, man! Force of habit. Gotta offer something anytime I'm about to do something!"

As Reginald jumped to his feet to stretch and walk off stiff joints, he picked up an ashtray from the coffee table to bring to the other side of my room. A cigarette was already lit in his mouth by the time he reached the small, round dining table that furnished my prison.

Prison. That was what they called it on paper, but they were only detaining me in an unoccupied bedroom at the headquarter barracks.

Reginald Chau, whom I'd grown accustomed to calling Reggie, was a handsome, laid-back 31 year old man with short black hair slicked to a small tail behind his head. It was a style from an era to make himself appear younger but just screamed old. At least he remembered to smoke away from me. Still. The guy was an enigma.

"Are my tenants alright? You know Clarissa is still after them," I reminded my Professor Markel replacement.

"Relax, man. They're going to be fine. We've beefed up security and have enough drones in the air searching for her to scare the conspiracy theorists. It's about all we can do until she shows up. If anyone can find a needle in the haystack, it's Grace, " Reggie assured me.

The door swung open and Grace marched in with a folder pinched between her arm and chest, both brows knitted tighter than a tourniquet.

"I can't find her," Grace said.

I shot Reggie a glare, and he took such a long drag of his cigarette that it burned to the filter.

"There are no records of Clarissa," she continued. "The other four turned up with credit card trails, travel records, and CCTV shots of them. With Clarissa? Nothing. She simply vanished from Malaysia. The caretaker and chief monk at the temple she frequents don't know anything either."

"Letting me go back to my tenants is still a no?" I asked, trying my luck for the millionth time.

"No," they answered at the same time.

"You're here for your own safety. The professor told us about how eager you are to jump into danger, and man he wasn't kidding," Reggie said.

Grace sat down next to me and opened the folder. It contained documents pertaining to Clarissa Raynard's identity and background, legal papers, and netherfolk-immigration status. My handler's eyes were strained from a lack of sleep.

"When High-King Tarcosa hid the truth about the Royal Black Guards from us years ago, he unwittingly created a crisis that could undo all that the Interworld Caretaker Act has been working towards."

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

Grace produced from her briefcase a laptop, which she opened in front of us to reveal protests happening all across the country. People marched the streets to express their disapproval for netherfolks. The more inflamed picketed at netherfolk dormitories and were met with fierce military presence.

"At least Mercutia and Thane's were directed solely at the dormitory, so they were self-contained. But there's no scrubbing the videos from Saralash and Jeriah's attacks," Reggie explained, smothering the cigarette into the ashtray and peeling himself from the wall to join us.

"How we proceed next determines the future of netherfolks in this world, because all eyes are on the United States. Can we handle it? Or are we going to turn into another India with the Chennai incident?" Grace pinched the bridge of her nose out of frustration.

Her full name was Grace Simmons. Grace was two years younger than Reggie, but she had a resume that put most people Professor Markel's age to shame. As a corporal intelligence officer during the war in Weyera, she was among the first volunteers to cross the portal under heavy magical artillery to establish a line of communications between both worlds.

Weyera didn't have radio towers after all. It was thanks to Grace that humanity had the eyes and ears to mount an offensive into the other world. They would have had to go in blind and deaf otherwise, resulting in massive casualties. The madwoman went onto participating in the frontlines to make sure technical links between humans and netherfolks were steady.

Grace understood the dangers of facing an unknown threat.

"I know this is outrageous of me to ask, but please…" I implored them both. "Let me return to my dorm to be with my tenants. I've helped resolve the past four. Things don't have to turn violent."

"We should let him in on it," Reggie said after a pause.

"Reg, it's because Professor Markel's always letting him do things off the book, then letting him off the hook is what got us here." Grace rolled her eyes and groaned.

"My man Akira's looked assassins in the eyes since he started as a caretaker. Jumped into Weyera like a maniac to help someone he didn't even know. Remind you of someone?" He teased.

Grace chewed on her lower lip, then clacked away at the laptop until another screen popped up. A blurry image of someone appeared, and it slowly sharpened itself until I was face to face with a tenant whose haughty demeanor I hadn't seen in a while.

"Val?" I choked on my own saliva.

"Oh, Akira? I didn't know you would be joining us in this meeting," Val said.

"Tell Akira what you told us about Clarissa Raynard," Grace urged.

"Hmph. Your tone still does not befit one addressing a monarch such as myself, young lady. But very well. Weyeran royalty had close ties with the Raynard family, who ruled the Esclepsia Duchy. At the time of the war, Clarissa was the matriarch of her family. Esclepsia rose to prominence because their mines were rich with crystallized magic. The very same materials that power our technology, including— eventually— your human firearms. The Raynards were the primary suppliers to my and Tarcosa's kingdoms. That made them a very high value target for the demons to cut us out from during the wars."

"Right. I heard about that. Clarissa's hate for demons is similar to yours in that they razed her lands," I said.

Val continued. "That is not the full story. Clarissa had three children. Two adult sons and a baby daughter who was born while the war was still kindling. When her sons were felled by assassins, Clarissa grew desperate in protecting her newborn. They wanted to kidnap and use the child as leverage, so she sent her to Granieda to be raised discreetly by farmers. Unfortunately, they perished when the flames of war crossed into the empire's countryside."

Then Clarissa's hate stemmed from losing all her children. She eventually came to adopt Mercutia. Together, they formed the Royal Black Guards and sought vengeance on all demons who wronged them.

"For Clarissa to outlive her children…" I muttered.

"You're still not getting it yet, Caretaker?" Val flashed a teasing smirk.

"Wait… Get what?"

The elven monarch snickered into the back of her hand.

"I never mentioned that the child perished. Tell me, who in your care has lost their family?" Val asked.

Among my tenants? That would be Tamara, but that didn't make any sense.

The only other person was—

"Mercutia?" I sputtered the name as the implication of Val's words dawned on me. "But Mercutia herself told me she was adopted!"

"That is what Clarissa would like her to believe," Val said.

"But… why? Why hide that from your own child?"

Her face wrinkled with uncertainty. "Whatever the reason, Clarissa was especially insistent that Tarcosa not tell Mercutia the truth either."

When Ange vowed to adopt Tamara, and I— though not by choice of my own— adopted Isla, it was the happiest those two could be. I couldn't fathom the relief and joy Mercutia would have if she learned that Clarissa was her real mother. So what was the point of hiding it?

"That's all fine and dandy, but maybe you can finally tell us what Tarcosa wouldn't— What's Clarissa capable of?" Reggie butted in to ask.

"Esclepsia was not razed by demons. That is only a lie that Tarcosa and I tell. The truth is, to give the demons no more reason to come after her or her family, Clarissa Raynard razed the crystallized magic mines herself with what your people call 'class-red' magic power," Val explained.

The same level of magic that Val was almost deported back to Weyera for not disclosing. That magic…

A chill crept up my spine.

"The dorm and my tenants are in danger!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

"That's some pants-shitting revelation, but they aren't in danger at the moment," Reggie said in a gentle tone to calm me down.

"I would love to chat some more, but I'm required elsewhere in the castle. What kind of high-king cannot dry his own laundry? That utter buffoon of a ruler… Before I leave, how about some good news? Isla's operation is a success. She's currently resting. The cute little sproutling misses you and everyone else dearly. Caretaker, you better make sure there is a dormitory for us to come back to. Otherwise, I will lodge a complaint with your handlers." Val smiled, but her tone was without a hint of joking in it.

"Yeah, I'll do my best…" I rolled my eyes. "Tell Isla we all miss her, too."

The haughty queen nodded before the video call ended.

Grace shut the laptop and turned to me. "Now you know. If there is anything you can figure out from what we were just told, I'm all ears."

"I wish I could tell you anything. Seriously. But I'm just as lost. All I can think of right now is telling Mercutia the truth about Clarissa. She deserves as much," I said.

"Absolutely not." She shook her head.

Even Reggie expressed surprise.

"Why not?" I asked.

Grace scoffed. "And risk Mercutia siding with her own birth mother? Then we would have two powerful netherfolks to deal with."

"Mercutia wouldn't just do that. Even if she did, that's a choice she needs to make on her… own…"

Parents always wanted what's best for their child. It was true of me and my mom. Ange wanted that for Tamara. I wanted that for Isla.

If Clarissa also wanted what was best for Mercutia, how did hiding their blood relation achieve anything? Before Saralash gave her life for Remmy, she said they were ridding demons from Earth for Mercutia's sake.

It felt so close to the tip of my tongue that I could taste the answer.

"Fuck. what am I missing?" I sighed, wracking my head over the answer.

A shrill alarm made everyone in the room wince, but while I had my hands pressed to both ears, Reggie and Grace buried their faces into their smartwatches. They traded glances and Reggie bolted out of the room in a hurry first.

Grace picked up her phone to make a call and was on the way out until I grabbed her arm.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"There's a massive magic signature coming from your dormitory," Grace said.

"Take me with you—"

"Out of the question."

"You trusted me enough to have Val fill me in about Mercutia and Clarissa. You want to trust me, don't you? So bite the bullet and let me come with you guys. It's my dorm. They are my tenants." I held tighter and stared into her unmoving eyes which seemed to search mine as though testing my resolve.

"For the record, we're nothing alike. I don't know what Reggie and Professor Markel sees in you. You can come, but you need to follow orders. Have I made myself clear?" Grace asked.

"Crystal," I lied through my teeth.